DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) by J Kiefer (best classic books to read TXT) 📗

Then the world went dark again.

Thirty

Jeremy Wagner sat on a small bench that resided near the walkway in a rather large cemetery, staring up at the night sky, his mouth slightly agape in awe and his legs swinging. This was his first time this far upstate and he was awed by its beauty. Most people thought of New York as nothing more than a great sprawling metropolis, but to those who called the state home, they knew it to be so much more. Two mountain ranges, thousands of acres of undisturbed forests, lakes, rivers, gorges, and canyons made New York one of the most beautiful states in the union. It was a pity that when people thought of New York all they saw was the city.

This late at night, the cemetery was quiet and peaceful. Jeremy enjoyed the solace it brought. He wasn’t a creep, mind you, and it was not his usual habit to spend his nights wandering around cemeteries, but of all the strange places God had led him to, this one was not so bad. The cemetery was well kept, and fresh flowers adorned many gravestones. Grieving families had erected crypts and set up memorial statues from the slight and unassuming, to the colossal and gaudy. All in all, it was a beautiful place—at least, if you were into that sort of thing.

He yawned and looked at his watch. It was getting late and he really hoped that whatever had brought him here would happen soon. It was a clear chilly night, so he stood up and moved around a bit in order to warm himself. Jeremy stretched his average frame, and the bangs from his short, unkempt dark brown hair fell into his eyes. He blew at them, trying to get the wayward strands away from his usually laugh-lined bright brown eyes, but they stubbornly refused to comply. He puckered his lips, crossed his arms and pouted like a toddler at his rebellious bangs.

Seriously, it was getting really late and he just wanted to go back to his hotel room and crash. Of course, if he did, there was no way that God would let him sleep. No, He would keep him up all night, pestering him about duty and the importance of what he needed to do. What exactly it was he needed to do tonight, God had yet to reveal.

Jeremy exhaled and his hot breath condensed, making it look like he was breathing smoke. He breathed out again, only this time harder, growling like he imagined a dragon would. He’d have to ask a dragon if they really did make sounds like that if he ever met one.

Jeremy’s eyes wandered up to the night sky. It was filled with stars. More stars than he had ever seen before. He could get used to this, he thought. It was nearly impossible to see even one star over the ambient light of the city, let alone the hundreds and thousands he was seeing tonight.

“It is time,” a voice spoke.

“Really? Already? Gee, it only seemed like two seconds and not forever. I mean, I only got frostbite in one of my fingers, so that’s good,” Jeremy told the voice he knew so well.

It was God’s. Of course, no one believed him when he told them that. When he was a kid, his own parents had tried to have him committed because they thought he was schizophrenic. To tell the truth, for a while he believed that, too. Then it had happened.

A little girl got lost in Central Park. Her parents called the police, and before long it seemed like the entire city of New York was out looking for the little girl. After a day of searching, the girl was still missing. He and his parents were helping look when the voice directed him to one of the bridges that dotted the park. Underneath it, he had found the girl.

She was unconscious and had a nasty gash in her forehead. She had fallen and struck her head and needed immediate medical attention. Thankfully, she recovered, and life returned to normal for everyone except him. Ever since that day, he realized that the voice that was speaking to him was real. He started listening instead of suppressing it.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked unenthusiastically. “A demon? No, I know, it’s a restless spirit that needs me to help them find peace and move on. Maybe I should’ve brought a camera crew with me and we could film a ghost-hunting show.”

God was silent, but Jeremy could sense His amusement. For some reason, God liked his sarcasm. Jeremy really did pity people who did not know this side of God’s character. The Almighty had a wonderful sense of humor, as well as a highly developed appreciation of irony.

“With the jawbone of an ass,” he muttered from the Bible, “I made asses out of…”

A strange sense of expectancy fell over him. Whatever was about to happen, it was important.

God led him farther into the cemetery and to a fresh grave where the grass had not yet had time to grow. Crouching down, he tried to read the name on the headstone. It was too dark, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Blue light illuminated the etching.

“Jared Caddret,” he read aloud. “He was only twenty-eight years old when he died. Now, that is sad. How did he die?”

Before God could answer him, the ground beneath his feet began to shift and he fell backward in fright. It took a lot to scare Jeremy. In all the years God had been talking to him, he had seen many things both amazing and horrific, but zombies clawing their way up out of the grave was a first.

A hand broke through the ground. Surprised, Jeremy jumped back up on his feet. Wide-eyed, he watched as the hand turned into an arm and then a man’s head broke through the